


Absence makes…

by szm



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Dreams, Light Bondage, M/M, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 03:56:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10296911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/szm/pseuds/szm
Summary: Matt and Foggy are not in each others lives very much anymore. Matt tries to be okay with that, then he starts dreaming about Foggy. Post season 2.





	

It started with a dream…

Well to be more honest it started with a nightmare…

Well to be the most honest it started with walking into a dorm room all those years ago to meet an unfamiliar heartbeat who smelt of cheap shampoo, expensive conditioner, and ‘cheese’ dust. Who from the first words he uttered treated Matt like a person who was blind, not a blind person. It was amazing how long it sometimes could take other people to do that. (Months, years, never.)

But this part, this part started with the nightmare. It started maybe a month after Nelson and Murdock disbanded. Foggy was gone. They were still friends, Foggy called him about once a fortnight, they ran into each other now and again. Foggy’s mother rang to tell Matt that she was sorry that the firm hadn’t worked out but he was absolutely still welcome at her door, then waxed lyrical about how amazing Foggy’s new job was. But Matt went from seeing Foggy every day to suddenly just… not. Suddenly there were boundaries and lines in their conversations that couldn’t be crossed that had never been there before. Matt didn’t know how to knock them down because Foggy had always been the one who did that and now he just wasn’t doing it. He let Matt have his secrets, which Matt had _wanted_ , there are things Foggy shouldn’t have to know about. 

Matt hated it.

The nightmare started with Fisk. The smell of Fisk, the way he filled up space, the shape of him looming over Matt, over Hell’s Kitchen. In the dream Matt knew Fisk was searching but he didn’t know what for. Until Fisk found it, him, Foggy. Foggy’s heartbeat racing, the smell of fear sweat and tears. Expensive conditioner, but cheap shampoo underneath. Foggy unable to move because he was tied to the chair. Struggling, trying to get free. Voice muffled by dirty cloth. Matt tried to get to Foggy, tried to run. But no matter how he tried the gap refused to close. Fisk was there, still too large, looming, everywhere and nowhere. Then the sound of Foggy screaming under the gag, the smell of blood. Lots of blood, too much blood…

Matt woke in a cold sweat. He went to Fogwell’s and hit the heavy bag until he could barely move his arms.

The nightmare started coming fairly regularly, maybe once a week. The details would change. Sometimes Matt would wake with screams in his ears and the smell of Foggy’s blood in his nose. Sometimes the sound of sobbing, the smell of tears, one time just the soft whisper of Foggy asking ‘why?’. Then there was the time that Matt ran and ran and managed to chase Fisk away. And Foggy’s heartbeat sped up like he was pleased to see Matt, like Matt was something _good_. And Foggy said “Gonna let me go?” and Matt said “No”, just before he woke up. 

Fogwell’s wasn’t enough after that one. He ran over the rooftops, looking for a fight.

After that. After that the nightmare stopped for a while. Long enough that Matt thought it was gone. Then he ran into Foggy. They were both visiting Jessica Jones, for different reasons that neither of them elaborated on. Matt felt the sting of running into a metaphorical boundary that wouldn’t have been there six months ago and tried to pretend to himself that he was relieved that Foggy didn’t ask. Jones wasn’t at home and Matt was the Daredevil here, right? He made a leap.

“We’ve both got a free hour then? Want to go get a coffee?” Matt smiled, the way he knew would make Foggy’s heart beat a fraction faster.

Foggy hesitated, but said, “Sure. Why not?” But then his phone bleeped and Foggy checked the text and he had to go. He was sorry. Genuinly sorry, Matt could tell he was sincere. But he didn’t tell Matt why he had to go, and Matt couldn’t ask. Because it wasn’t any of Matt’s business anymore.

Foggy was different now. Expensive shampoo to go with the conditioner. A brand Matt couldn’t place. When Foggy moved the fabric shifted against him and Matt could hear it was better quality now. Foggy’s hair brushed his shoulders less often, still longer than most lawyers but shorter than before. The perfume Marci favoured was on Foggy’s arm, they worked in the same office now. Foggy’s Mom had said. She’d probably touched Foggy on the arm just before he came out. She probably touched him a lot now. There were other perfumes and colognes on Foggy, ones Matt couldn’t match to people he knew. He couldn’t pick out Karen’s honeysuckle, Foggy must not have seen her for a while.

That night the dream was back. Without Fisk this time. Just Foggy, heartbeat racing, tied up and begging to be set free. With Matt saying “No” over and over. 

He was hard when he woke up. He lay very still willing his erection to go away. He didn’t want to hurt Foggy. Never wanted that. Never wanted to make Foggy scared of him. His stupid subconscious could just let go of that right now. But this time the dream lingered, no amount of punching things or running away could get it completely out of Matts head. 

The dream started coming every night. But it changed. 

Foggy begged to be free, “Please Matt. Please just let me go. Please Matt, Matty, Please!”

Matt said “No”. 

Then Foggy struggled in his bonds, clothing and skin rubbing against the ropes, in danger of tearing. Matt had to stop that so he kissed Foggy, hard and fierce, suddenly realising he wanted this, had always wanted this, in that really clear way dreams make complex emotions simple. Desperately trying to make Foggy stop leaving. To make him _stay_. And Foggy kissed him back. Struggling against the ropes to get _to_ Matt, rather than to get away. 

Matt woke this time harder than he could ever remember being before. He could still taste coffee and Foggy’s lip balm from the kiss. Could feel Foggy’s lips on his, warm and soft. He couldn’t help but touch himself. Remembering how in the dream he’s gripped Foggy’s upper arms. How Foggy’s muscles strained against the bonds holding him back. He thought about holding Foggy still, about keeping him right where Matt put him, about Foggy _wanting_ to be there. By Matt, under Matt, with Matt. He came shouting Foggy’s name, the guilt he felt somehow making everything more intense. He fell back to sleep after, and had the best rest he’d had in months. 

He saw Foggy a few days later. They chatted about Karen’s latest article. About Foggy’s cousin who was getting married. Nothing about Foggy’s job, definitely nothing about Daredevil. 

Eventually Matt couldn’t take anymore. “I hate this,” he said sadly. “I miss talking to you, I miss you.”

Foggy bit his lip and Matt felt his own heart rate speed up. Parts of the stupid dream stuck on a loop in his head. “This is what we decided on, buddy. This is… for the best…”

“Foggy…” interrupted Matt.

But Foggy’s voice was stern, his breathing steady. Like this was a decision he was going to stick to. “It’s what we both wanted.” But Foggy’s heart skipped a beat, like maybe he wasn’t as sure as he wanted to be. “But I miss you too, Matty.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what this is. Just... the idea occurred to me at work today so when I got home I sat down and wrote it all out in one sitting which never happens.
> 
> So just over 1000 words of Matt missing Foggy, and what is possibly my desire to see Foggy tied up. ;-)


End file.
